


Filling In the Blanks

by MadMarchHare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Shuri Friendship, F/M, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMarchHare/pseuds/MadMarchHare
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff have a history that they'd both rather forget. But it wasn't all bad, was it? Natasha sneaks off to Wakanda pre-Infinity War to see what's left of their time together in the Red Room.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Filling In the Blanks

Sergeant Bucky Barnes stood next to the small pond, contemplating it quietly as a pair of Wakandan jets whizzed overhead, towards the palace. His gaze shifted up to them for the barest moment, then back to the quiet serenity of the water before him. The corner of his mouth twitched up into the barest hint of a smile. “God I love this place,” he mumbled to himself, his hand reaching across to adjust the strip of fabric that hung around his neck and over his shoulder to conceal his missing arm. It tended to disturb folks, so he preferred to keep it covered. Though the people of Wakanda had been remarkably welcoming since he’d been brought out of the deep freeze. It wasn’t the welcome he was used to, but he was more than grateful for it.  
His morning had begun like every other since he’d been there…coffee and a variety of fruits and grains for breakfast followed by a run to clear his mind and focus him for the day, a habit he’d realized he enjoyed in the army during the war. His run was followed by farm work helping the local villagers. He’d only paused in his work for a drink of water and a small respite from the relentless African heat.  
Bucky didn’t know what tipped him off that she was there as he stood in front of the water. He knew she hadn’t made a sound. She was far too much of a professional for that. But then, he was a professional too, and he knew she was there like a gazelle knows there is a lioness stalking him.  
“I knew you’d come after me. I just didn’t know when,” he said without turning, his eyes focused on the peaceful water before him.  
“I’m not… after you,” Natasha Romanoff scoffed, rolling her eyes as her face scrunched. “I came to talk,” she said as she moved out of the tall grass and took a few steps towards him. “I’m unarmed.” She raised her arms, her fingers wiggling almost playfully in her gloves.  
Chuckling softly, he turned to face her. “C’mon, you and I both know that’s not true. You got the drop on me. Don’t add insult to injury. You gonna kill me, or you want some tea?” He asked calmly as he stepped towards his hut.  
“Why does everyone always think I’m going to kill them?” She asked rhetorically, looking slightly insulted. “You’re so dramatic, Barnes. I’m not here to kill you,” she dropped her hands to her sides, looking at him curiously. “Since when do you drink tea?” She asked him with a smirk.  
“Past experience?” He suggested with a small chuckle. “You want some or not? Cause if you’re gonna stand out here in the open and chat, I’m at least finding a shady spot,” he mumbled as he walked past her and into his hut, knowing she’d follow.  
Follow she did. “How’d you know I was there?” She asked, stepping in and sitting where he indicated.  
“I trained you,” he shot back with a small grin, pouring them each some iced tea from a jar and offering one to her.  
“You’ve got an ice maker in a hut?” She looks the tea over, scrutinizing it for a moment before taking a drink.  
“That’s nothin’, I’ve got indoor plumbing and a garbage disposal. This hut is nicer than my last apartment,” he laughed, taking a long drink of his tea.  
Chuckling, Natasha nodded some as she set her tea aside. “From what I hear that isn’t hard. Steve told me it was quite the shithole. But I guess you take what you can get when everybody’s after you. I’m feeling like an expert on that one lately.” She looked around the hut, taking note of her surroundings. It was an old habit that was hard to break, especially in the presence of someone who’d put two bullets in her and tried to kill her on several more occasions.  
He watched her for a moment as she assessed her surroundings and plotted escape routes. Not that anyone else would know what she was doing, but he knew.  
“So I’d love to think this is a social visit…y’know, checking on an old friend and all that,” he began. “But I think you and I both know better. So if you’re not here to kill me, then why are you here? Did Steve send you?” He took another long drink of his tea, his eyes not moving from her.  
She shook her head as he asked about Steve. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here. I hitched a ride and told him I was going to run down a lead on something, then we’re meeting up. He’s coming in a few days check up on you and see T’Challa. I… “ she hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you before he did. I… I wanted to thank you for not telling him about us,” she says, looking up at him.  
He was taken aback by her bluntness, though he appreciated it. “What was I gonna say?” He shrugged. “That we knew each other a couple lifetimes ago? That I helped train you to be the weapon you are?” His voice was laced with the same guilt that always shrouded him when he spoke of the atrocities of his past. He scoffed softly, finishing off his glass of ice tea and pouring himself another. “What good would it do, Steve knowing about it? It wasn’t like either of us had a choice,” he sighed softly.  
“Some things we had the choice,” she stood, setting her tea aside and approaching him carefully.  
“Hey... wait...No good can come from this,” he breathed, looking at her blond hair, his body tensing as she stepped closer.  
Stopping in her tracks, she looked at him, one eyebrow twitching up. “What do you think I’m gonna do?” She asked, smirking. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes, I was going for the crackers on the counter. My meals have been surprisingly sporadic since we went on the run and I’m hungry.” She shook her head, reached past him and grabbed the box of crackers he’d left on the counter earlier. “Somehow I think the mystery is gone between us. Guess that’s what happens when you put a couple bullets in me.”  
He sighed, groaning a little. “In my defense, the second time you shot at me first, Natalia,” he teased her, chuckling a bit at himself. Maybe he really was dramatic. “Look, all I meant is that it was a hundred years ago and neither of us was in control of what we were doing. I don’t think Steve needs to know everything that happened in the Red Room.”  
“I don’t think he needs to know anything,” she mumbled around a mouth full of crackers. She let herself smile though at hearing his old nickname for her. “No one has called me that in years, it’s nice.”  
Nodding, he gives a little smile to her about the name before moving on. “Does he know anything about it? Does he know I was there?”  
“Not that I know of. The files on the Red Room are sketchy at best. It’s not like Hydra was eager to leave a paper trail.”  
Nodding again, he moved back to the counter to grab some bread. “You want a sandwich instead of cramming crackers in your face? I mean, they’re good crackers, but I’m thinking the way you’re tearing into ‘em, a sandwich might just send you over the edge,” he laughed as he navigated the kitchen with his one hand, a little slower than he might with the other attached, but with no less skill.  
“Whatcha got?” She asked curiously, setting the box of crackers down and joining him at the counter. She eyed what he was doing, her stomach giving a little grumble as he pulls a package of meat out of the fridge and sets it out. “Pastrami, believe it or not.” He gave a small chuckle, shrugging. “Guess they wanted to make me feel at home. I don’t have the heart to tell ‘em it’s a bit thick for New York pastrami,” he continued as he made them both sandwiches. “But hey, beggars and all that, right?”  
“Have you always been this picky?” She teased, jumping in to help with their sandwiches, forming an assembly line with him to make the food faster.  
“Pickier,” he replied with a little nod of his head. “When you knew me I wasn’t exactly making my own choices. Mostly getting fed through a tube; it was pretty glamorous.”  
“I bet,” she took the sandwiches and put them on the counter. “So, we going to talk about lunch meat and eating through tubes all day, or are we actually going to figure this out?” She asked as she whipped a knife off of her belt and skillfully sliced both sandwiches in half, leaving his for him and diving into hers unceremoniously.  
He shrugged, unconcerned about her handling of the knife as she slid it back into its spot on her belt. “Figure what out?” he asked, picking up half of his sandwich and taking a large bite as he turned, leaning against the counter. “I mean, you said you don’t want him to know anything and as I’m fairly sure you can keep a secret and I know I can…” he trailed off, giving her a smirk around his mouthful of sandwich.  
“Not that, idiot…” she mumbled. “This.” She picked up her sandwich and used the corner of it to motion between the two of them then took a big bite herself.  
“This what? What exactly are we figuring out?” he asked, his face contorting slightly, his eyebrows raised but his lips twisting. The expression shifted seamlessly into a smoother one as he continued. “Because I’m pretty sure we just did… we don’t tell Steve. It’s a solid plan; I think I’ve got it down,” he remarked sarcastically as he finished the first half of his sandwich and reached for his tea.  
Her frustration grew with him and she let out a huff of air. “Are you really gonna make me say this, James?” she asked, using the name she’d known him by all those years ago.  
“I think you’re gonna have to, because I’ve got no idea…” he began, shaking his head before drinking his tea.  
“I’ve still got feelings for you, you moron!” she blurted out, interrupting him before he could really dive into his denial of knowledge.  
“Wait… what?” he asked, having not really stopped talking until he realized what had come out of her mouth. “Natalia… I…” he started before she cut him off again, holding up a hand impatiently.  
“Don’t worry, it’s not like I wanna settle down and have babies with you or anything,” she shot back at him, rolling her eyes as he stammered.  
“That’s not even…” he shook his head, taking a deep breath before trying to speak again. “That’s not what...I mean, are you sure? The last time we saw each other and were able to actually have a conversation where I wasn’t a soulless killing machine, you were so young…”  
“I was 18,” she snapped defensively.  
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. You were 18 and we were in an extraordinary circumstance,” he said gently, his eyes filled with guilt and shame.  
“I shouldn’t have come,” she said quickly, taking the other half of her sandwich from her plate and stuffing the corner into her mouth as she moved to leave.  
“Wait, dammit!” he said, sliding his body to the side smoothly so that he could reach her easily. He looked down at her, his hand around her bicep, wondering if this was the moment she’d decide to kick his ass. His body was tense and ready for it, though he knew that one-armed he’d barely be able to mount a defense against her. The calculations continued in his head as he looked down into her eyes, waiting, until her expression softened from shock to something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  
“Natalia…” he breathed when her body relaxed under his grip. “All I was trying to say is that it was a long time ago. You were young…” he said, releasing her arm once he was reasonably certain she wasn’t going to run.  
She reached up and took the rest of the sandwich out of her mouth. “I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t sure,” she said softly, looking up at him, trying desperately to gage his reaction. “Trust me when I say that I’ve overthought this one extensively before offering it up. I’ve done all the math, denied it, tried all the Vogue articles about how to get over this… sort of thing. In the end, the only thing that made sense was coming here and talking to you about it.”  
His breath hitched a little as he struggled to find the right response, one that wouldn’t send her running again. He knew he had to say something… do something… soon or she was going to misinterpret his reaction. He’d already taken too long.  
“Look, I…” she began, shaking her head.  
“Shhhh,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly in return. “Don’t,” he said as he shifted his body in front of hers and bent low, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. “Is that clear enough?” he asked after the kiss, sliding his hand down, pressing gently on her lower back to pull her closer to him.  
“I think it’s a little more clear, but that still doesn’t address what we’re going to do about it,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed from the kiss.  
“Can we just deal with one problem at a time, please?” he asked with an exasperated sigh as he stole another lingering kiss, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist.  
“This is a problem?” she mumbled against his lips, her hand sliding up into his hair to stroke his neck softly.  
“It could be if you don’t tell me to stop,” he whispered low, pulling his lips away from the kiss and pressing his forehead against hers, trying with his last shred of self-control to be a gentleman.  
“Now why would I do a stupid thing like that?” she chuckled, her forehead resting comfortably against his.  
It was all the permission he needed. Bucky wrapped his arm around her more tightly as he guided her back towards the semi-curtained off area where he slept. 

The sun was beginning to set and the air had cooled considerably when there was a knock on the door of his hut. Then another knock. He yawned, blinking softly at the sound. “What?” he mumbled, realizing they’d been asleep for a while. Other than being in stasis, it had been a very long time since he’d slept that soundly. When his brain finally registered there was knocking, he snapped awake.  
“Sergeant Barnes?” Shuri’s voice called as the knocking continued. “I have some things…”  
“Just a minute!” Bucky grumbled as he untangled himself from Nat and tried to find something appropriate to pull on his body.  
“Are you alright in there?” Shuri asked as Nat stretched, yawning. She assumed that James would shoo the curious princess away and come back to bed, and so she wasn’t exactly worried about getting up.  
“You just gonna lay there?” he mumbled, an amused tone coloring his words.  
“Figured I would…” she said lazily.  
“Thanks a lot,” he chuckled as he finally found the pants he’d been wearing and slid them on.  
“Sergeant Barnes?” Shuri called again, her tone growing insistent and concerned.  
“Hang…” he began to say as she burst in, his trousers only just in place.  
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering and I was worried….” Shuri asked, trailing off as she came through the door and stopped, seeing him in a state of disarray before looking beyond him to Nat laying luxuriously on his bed. “Oh…” she said, a broad smile spreading across her face. “I wasn’t aware Agent Romanoff had arrived…” she grinned even wider as Nat sighed, giving a sheepish smile as she pulled the covers more securely around her.  
“So...I…” Bucky began to speak as Shuri held her hand up.  
“No no, Sergeant. What I have to say can certainly wait!” she remarked with an eager grin. “You two enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as Bucky stammered, trying to get her to wait. She hurried off eagerly, like a New York gossip columnist who’d just heard the juiciest story of their life.  
“Dammit,” he groaned, propping his arm up above his head on one of the hut’s support beams, leaning his head against his hand.  
“So whaddya think the chances are that she isn’t going to tell everyone?” Nat asked as she stood up wrapped in his sheet and padded over to where he was standing, laying her forehead into his back.  
“I don’t know, did you read her into our excellent ‘let’s not tell Steve’ plan?” he asks sardonically, a chuckle rumbling low in his chest.  
“You know I didn’t,” she replied, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. “So basically no chance.”  
“Yep,” he sighs, shaking his head. “We may be good spies, but we’re really bad at… this…”  
“Speak for yourself, Barnes, I’m great at this.”  
“That’s not really what I meant.”


End file.
